Analysis of Control
by rainydaylovers
Summary: What happens when many couples with personalities that clash like pinstripes and polka dots, collide? A dramatic, somewhat funny romance, that's what. Narusasu and many other pairings. Partialsuggested lemonplease review!
1. Chapter 1 dive in

**Disclaimer: I don't own the characters, or the pairings (narusasu and such) but I do own the plotline. Please comment--no flames please!**

The wind shifted a little, blowing Sasuke's red and yellow scarf over his shoulder, the braided tassels brushing his cheek like fingertips. He looked up at the fiery orange harvest moon and let out a long sigh. Autumn was a bad time for the Uchiha. It was cold, the air was crisp, the leaves were gold and orange, the wind was always blowing or the clouds raining. Sasuke hated the fall. But this fall was different. This was the fall he'd spent with Naruto, this was the fall the obnoxious blonde kid suddenly looked really good in the orange jacket and pants he had to wear for the Chunin Exams. Not that he ever wore anything else, the crazy bitch. But offer him a cup of ramen and you can coax him into a building hot and humid enough to sweat him out of several layers of his clothes. Sasuke chuckled. Naruto was pretty easy. He believed anything, and was a hell of a lot too trusting for his own good. Nosy, though. Really nosy.

"Sasuke. I have a surprise for you."

Sasuke jumped about two feet as Naruto crept up behind him, slipping his arms around the raven-haired boy's waist and whispering hotly in his ear. Sasuke shivered as Naruto kissed the side of his neck, sucking, hard. If Sasuke showed up the next day with a hangover, a fit of exhaustion, and a neck full of hickeys, it wouldn't be good. But the special bottles of sake Naruto had bought were _not_ going to go to waste. And Sasuke could survive one little sleepless night. But the red marks on his neck would probably let people know what exactly went on that night. Not that it mattered. The ninja couldn't care less.

"So, Sasuke," he purred in his lover's ear. "Did you miss me?"

Naruto slipped around in front of Sasuke, hands sliding with him. He flipped up Sasuke's collar and looked, with a smirk, into the black intense eyes.

"Mmm. Naruto." Sasuke walked slowly backwards as Naruto pushed him until the Uchiha's back was pressed against a tree. The blond-headed boy smoothly unzipped his orange jacket, slipping it off to reveal a plain black t-shirt.

"Oh."

And suddenly there were no more clothes. Piles of jackets, shirts, and pants lay on the ground. Naruto grinned at a weak-looking Sasuke, who was panting and beaded with sweat. They hadn't even done anything yet, and the guy was already a train wreck.

"Hey Sasuke?" Naruto said, arching an eyebrow cockily, sliding his finger gently under Sasuke's chin and lifting it to look at him.

"Y-yes, Naruto?"

"I see why your name is Sas-_uke._"

"Ugh. Naruto!"

"Okay, okay. That's not what I was gonna say."

"Then what _were_ you gonna say?" Sasuke snarled.

"Can you be strong for a minute?" Suddenly the raven-haired boy melted, his face draining of any color Naruto's comment had brought to his cheeks.

"I….uh…."

"_Sasuke?_" asked a bewildered voice. Sasuke looked up, petrified, not wanting to remember that voice.

"My little Uchiha brother? The last of my family? With this Uzamaki _scum?_" Itachi narrowed his eyes. "You've sunk lower than I would've thought, bro."

"Itachi." Sasuke glared.

"Itachi? Doesn't that mean weasel?" Naruto was looking from one Uchiha to the other, and then to the creepy-looking plant guy behind Sasuke's older brother.

"Why him?" Itachi asked, almost amused, glancing at the blonde teen, eyes skimming over him; strong legs, navy boxers, almost-six-pack, strong chest, slight build, with his gracefully muscled arms and fair skin, electric blue eyes, spiked gold hair, and those infamous under-eye catscratches. "Sure, he's the nine tails, but isn't he a whiny annoying little thing who's always bitching about wanting to be Hokage?"

Sasuke's fists clenched. Every muscle in his body tensed, coiled, ready, angry as a disturbed nest full of fire ants. Naruto helped Sasuke back into his clothes, but still looked puzzled, not getting the picture, not fully seeing the hate between these two. He backed up a few steps, confidence drained, and watched frantically as the two brothers stared heatedly at each other.

"You _killed_ our family."

"That was years ago, Sasuke."

"But you were never the same."

"It just gave me a reason to leave. I was the same before."

"I looked up to you!"

"You were seven. You were just a little brother."

Sasuke sank to his knees, surprising everyone, including the strange man with the Venus fly trap enclosing a shadowy emerald head.

"Itachi," Sasuke breathed. "Why didn't you kill me too?"

Itachi turned away, perturbed. Naruto crept forward a little, clutching at Sasuke's shoulder.

"Who is he? What's he want?"

"Stay out of it, Naruto."

Looking hurt, Naruto's grip loosened on Sasuke's shoulder. Sasuke let out a heavy sigh and turned a bit so he could look at Naruto.

"I didn't mean it like that. It's just….a personal thing. I don't want you getting involved. Once you're part of it, there's no backing out. It's nothing you'd want to be caught up in."

Naruto let out a shaky laugh.

"Like it matters at this point."

Sasuke muttered something under his breath and turned back to his older brother, leaving Naruto somewhat dazed.

"Listen, Weasel, what the hell do you want?"

"Well, Little Brother, maybe I came to finish you off."

Sasuke glowered.

"Well. Do it now then."

"Ah, you're impatient," said Itachi, licking a bit of blood off the edge of a throwing star that he had just neatly sliced open his finger with.

"Clumsy," hissed Sasuke, "nicking yourself on your own weapon."

"Hardly," Itachi replied absentmindedly, lazily, pressing his bleeding thumb onto the center of the shuriken.

"What the—"

Sasuke was cut off when the Akatsuki hurled the shuriken, marked with his fingerprint in blood, eyes widening as he realized Itachi was recreating a more modern version of an old Fire Village technique—something very rare and violent. The technique was buried a long time ago, hundreds of years, probably, because it was risky and brutal. It sucked chakra like a black hole, but it sure as hell was worth it. Itachi's face was about two shades lighter and he looked like he'd just been strangled, but he was grinning like a maniac. Sasuke was too slow to react with a block or a counterattack, and all he could think to do was try to protect his face with his arms.

The shuriken suddenly veered upwards, as if it had hit a wall, and cloned itself—making fifty more throwing stars—and doubled back with its new army of weapons, falling straight down in slashes of silver and steel. Suddenly it was hours later, and the Akatsuki members were gone. Sasuke was lying, pained and distraughtly exhausted, in a sheer puddle of his own deep scarlet blood. Naruto was lying beside him, looking up at the sky with a frustrated expression that reached deep into his eyes.

"Hey," Naruto said quietly as he noticed Sasuke was stirring.

"How long've I been out?" Sasuke said, glancing up at the gradually lowering position of the sun in the sky.

"Couple hours."

"Dammit, Itachi."

"Aw, Sasuke. Anyway, who the hell is that guy? He's got some serious problems. And who were you saying he killed?"

"He's….someone I used to think I knew."

"Is that all?"

"Yeah. Why?"

"You guys seemed….Oh, I dunno. But he called you 'little brother,' which sorta tipped me off."

"Dammit." Sasuke rolled over so his back was to Naruto, wincing sharply at the violent bursts of pain that shot up from his injuries. His arms, his legs; all coated in a sticky film of alarmingly red blood. His shoulder and his side especially. Right below the last rib was a deep gash. He crossed his arms, clutching at the shuriken slash. It would need stitches to close it, or it would never heal. There was something about this that was deeply depressing to Sasuke. So, naturally, he didn't want Naruto to see it.

"Don't be like that," whispered Naruto, slipping an arm over his lover and leaning over Sasuke's shoulder to kiss him.

"No, Naruto. Not now." Sasuke tried to suppress the urge to groan at the biting pain from his wounds. But Naruto, being Naruto, wouldn't give up that easily. Obviously.

"Aw, _Sasuke,_" he said, grinning smugly, slinking over so he was face to face with Sasuke Uchiha. "Don't you want to finish what we started?"

Sasuke squeezed his eyes shut, doing anything to avoid Naruto. Finally he obliged, after much poking and prodding, and a bit of kissing to seal the deal. Leaning into it, Naruto slid his tongue along the inside of Sasuke's lip, hearing a groan in response. His teeth came down lightly on the Uchiha's lower lip, and feeling Sasuke shudder against him, knew he was doing pretty well. The two of them lay there in the October grass, under a crooked, spindly, beautiful cherry tree and a moonlit, star-speckled sky.

"Sasuke?"

"Yes Naruto?"

"Who did Itachi kill?"

After a long silence, Sasuke said heavily, "My family."

"Oh."

It was hours before Sasuke came up with anything to say. So by the time he started to mention how tomorrow was Sunday and what did he want to do, the blonde Uzamaki was asleep.


	2. Chapter 2 pushed

Gaara looked at the cracked mirror again, contemplating.

_Do I look drunk?_ He wondered. _Does Neji look drunk?_ Neji. No. He wasn't supposed to be thinking about Neji. He'd sworn off that ninja months ago. He couldn't think about him, talk about him, feel anything for him. But the more he told himself this, the more images crept into his mind. Neji sitting in the bathtub, which was loaded with bubble soap, just sitting there, thinking. Neji at the Chunin Exams. Neji locking eyes from across the room with the spiky-haired redhead from the Sand Village, and maybe, maybe, was that just a hint of a smile? It was a party. A celebration. This was supposed to be fun.

But as Gaara sat on the edge of the window seat, staring wistfully into a mirror and fighting his mental battles, he knew he wasn't having fun. Going to the cheap bar across the street from the Ramen place was bound to be no good. Partying and sake and people, all these people Gaara couldn't relate to. Drunk. He was never drunk. And even when he did drink, nothing loosened inside him, no weight dropped from his shoulders, nothing fogged up his mind. He never looked any different—or at least, he didn't think so. Drinking did nothing. Drinking just made him smell like alcohol for an hour or so and then it was like nothing ever happened, it was like he never drank.

Gaara wished he could get drunk.

Being drunk means you're happy. You're cheerful, loose, fun. Everything is funny when you're drunk. Everyone is your friend. It doesn't matter how much it all costs or how many you had even though you're driving eight miles home. It just doesn't matter, because being drunk means you're happy. But Gaara was never drunk, and he was never happy. Except when he was with Neji.

At first they were perfect together, the two of them, sitting and talking and laughing, laughing only because they were together, only because they knew they _would_ only laugh when they were together. They talked and joked and taught each other how to love, something both of them struggled with. They kissed and laughed and everything was perfect.

Which lasted about two weeks.

And then things got complicated. Really complicated. And it had a great deal to do with rumors going around about some crazy blonde Akatsuki, about 18 with a long ponytail and fishnet clothes going around with Gaara. Lies, of course. Eventually Gaara discovered the source. It was, of course, from Ino, the gossiper of the bunch. She'd actually seen Sasori and Deidara, which is just as well, to be honest, as Sasori was a spiky-haired redhead from the Sand Village too, so there's not much to blame. But it still made Gaara want to throttle her when it happened. It went somewhere along the lines of, "Gaara, it's fine if you don't like me. I just would've expected you to tell me." And for three weeks, Neji disappeared. When he came back it was as if nothing had happened.

But the problem was, Gaara _didn't_ cheat. The whole relationship _had_ happened. Neji and Gaara_ were_ in love—for a while. What bothered Gaara the most was that Neji acted like nothing ever happened between them. He acted like they were just classmates. Like there was never anything that happened. Two weeks existed. But maybe Neji didn't see that.

Gaara sighed heavily, eyes on the creaky floorboards, and slowly plodded down the wooden stairs. Temari grabbed his arm.

"C'mon, someone wants to talk to you," she shouted over the bartender grumbling and the music blasting and the people laughing and talking. Gaara's sister dragged him to another section of the bar, somewhere quieter, more secluded. There stood Kakashi-sensei.

"I'll leave you two boys to yourselves," she winked, and slipped off into the crowd of grinding bodies, giving Choji, who was devouring a bowl of chips, a wide girth. Iruka was dancing with Lady Tsunade—both of them being very drunk—and Shikamaru was grinding violently with someone Gaara vaguely recognized as a relative of Ino's.

"You wanted a talk, sensei?"

"I don't know what the hell the girl's talking about," Kakashi grumbled.

"You, uh, think we got set up?"

"I'm thinkin' yeah."

"I'm not really one for blind dates," Gaara said pointedly.

"Neither am I."

Gaara raised one eyebrow.

"Okay, okay. Just not blind dates with my students."

"Uh-huh."

"Who is it?"

"What?" Gaara asked, frozen.

"Who is it you're after? I can tell. There's someone. You miss him."

"Damn. Is it that obvious?"

"Nah," Kakashi waved his hand carelessly. "But I've got practice picking things up. I _am_ a ninja, after all. Anyway, who is it?"

After a moment, Gaara looked up at the water-stained white plaster ceiling and said, "Neji."

"Oh. You had a thing for that guy, huh."

"Yeah."

Kakashi's voice dropped an octave.

"I've got a thing for someone, too."

"You do?" Gaara was slightly surprised Kakashi was telling him this. But it might've just been that he was drunk.

"Yup. But you can't tell anyone. You've probably never seen him. Kabuto. Orochimaru's little bitch." Kakashi winked gleefully and ambled off into the crowd, accepting a bottle of sake from Sakura and heading towards a suggestively-dancing group near the front of the bar. Gaara, stunned, wandered to the bar and sipped uneasily at something with a shot of whiskey, wondering who else was here. There were heads bobbing all over the place; it would be impossible to find anyone—preferably, of course, Neji.


	3. Chapter 3 the hunt

Orochimaru was crouched, skillfully balanced, in a tree. He watched the two from between sinewy branches and smooth green leaves, Itachi Uzamaki and some of his fellow Akatsuki members, Zetsu, Deidara, Tobi, and Kisame. Kisame, Itachi's closest companion and traveling partner, was the first to speak.

"Why the Uzamaki?"

"I asked him that," Itachi growled. "He didn't answer."

"How badly were they wounded when you left?" Deidara asked.

"I don't know. Pretty harshly. A lot of blood and some howling on Sasuke's part."

"What jutsu did you use?" Kisame asked.

"It's an old Fire Village one they tried to remove from history a couple hundred years ago," Itachi answered, "it involves a little of my blood and a lot of my chakra. He was pretty close to dead, though, when we left. Deep wounds, eh, Zetsu?"

Zetsu nodded.

"Was he still in his boxers?" Tobi asked, a lot more interested than he should have been. Somebody elbowed him, hard, probably Deidara.

"Shut up Tobi. Gay idiot. I don't even know why you're in the Akatsuki."

Itachi sighed, glared at a now sheepish-looking Tobi, and started to settle everyone down.

"We need to decide something important."

The Akatsukis looked up, their attention, if momentarily, caught.

"We need to decide whether or not to kill the blonde."

"Yeah!"

"Maybe later."

"Soon?"

"Of course."

"Why not?"

Everyone started arguing with their separate opinions, which each of them had personally believed was what everyone else thought. Typical, Itachi thought. It was pretty much pointless, handing over such an important matter to be decided by some of the crazy people in his group.

Orochimaru let go of the jutsu letting him hear and see their conversation clearly and called Kabuto.

"Kabuto, get over here."

"Yes, of course, Orochimaru."

"The Akatsuki are arguing. They're trying to decide whether or not to kill Naruto Uzamaki. In any case, we should be there when they do it. If we follow them, we can target Sasuke at his weakest moment—his lover's death. If we do this correctly, he'll be mine."

Kabuto nodded quickly. As usual, his leader was only interested in the little Uchiha kid. For god's sakes, thought Kabuto, why the hell doesn't he ever look at _me_?

"Kabuto. We will follow the Akatsuki starting now. Wherever they go, we go as well. Kill anyone who dares to interfere. Show no mercy."

"As always, Orochimaru."

The older man smiled a sharp-toothed smile, and leapt from the tree, using a simple replacement jutsu. Where Orochimaru had just been was now a slightly crooked bird's nest. Kabuto did the same, following Orochimaru like a dog. He let out a little sigh, wondering if Orochimaru had ever given him a second thought. Probably no, he thought, frustrated, as they switched tree to tree, subtly following the Akatsukis at a reasonable pace. However fast the Akatsukis ran, they could bound three trees at a time if necessary. This was going to be easy.

Review for an update!! (i have 13 chapters done now, lol...it's still a work in progress.)

Until I get 5 more reviews, no updates! The other chapters are better, too. Big plot changes. Anyway, please review!

_xxchuuxx_


	4. Chapter 4 headfirst

**Warning--citrus chapter! This one is probably the one with the most lemon so far, out of the 13 chapters I've written, so if you don't like somewhat heavy yaoi, skip over a paragraph or two after I do the author's note. If you like it, well, enjoy! lol. Please review--please!!!**

**_xxchuuxx_**

Jay-chan

"Alright! Lotus position jutsu!" Sasuke muttered to himself, practicing his technique, attacking an invisible enemy. He landed gracefully and flung a shuriken one way, a kunai throwing knife the other, hitting the targets he'd marked on surrounding trees dead in the center. This was the third time he'd practiced this, and it was flawless. Naruto threw a handful of knives at him lazily, completely bored, this being the third time, and Sasuke ducked easily.

"C'mon, Blondie! Throw harder! Faster! _Aim,_ dammit!"

"Oh, shut up," Naruto sighed, hurling a Kunai with all his strength at Sasuke's head. Sasuke leaned backward to avoid it, and reached up. He quickly caught the Kunai by the thin metal ring at the back of the handle, swinging it mockingly back and forth like a pendulum.

"Is that all you've got?"

"You little bastard!"

And now it was a full-on war, kunai and shuriken flying this way and that, running and climbing and screaming "Bombs away!" as they leapt from trees. It ended up with both of them panting and laying on their backs in the grass, watching the sun rise. Pink and orange exploded over the horizon. "Now _that's_...what I….call training," Sasuke huffed, a grin spreading across his face. He rolled over on top of Naruto and started to kiss him, grabbing fistfuls of the spiky yellow hair, fingers tracing over the catscratches under Naruto's eyes, head cocked to one side as he kissed and was kissed.

He pressed his lips feverishly to Naruto's, leaning on his lover as he grew harder and harder, more and more frantic. [AN--this scene gets lemonish. If you dont like it skip it! He slipped his hand behind Naruto's head, digging his fingernails into skin and fighting the desire to go so much further. He knew he couldn't hold back much longer. _Tssssk,_ Naruto heard, as the zipper on his pants slid down. The wave of pleasure that immediately hit him almost made him forget how much he hated being an uke. Naruto loved control, and if he didn't get it, it pissed him off. But Sasuke knew what he was doing. Used to being hard and fast, he finally was getting what he wanted, but Naruto loved being seme too much to let it slip, even if it felt this good.

Naruto leaned forward a little so he was holding Sasuke up and flipped over so that he was pinning Sasuke to the ground. Sasuke swore loudly as Naruto covered his mouth with his own, lips smothering, tongue smoothly tracing Sasuke's lip. He ground his hips against the Uchiha's, groaning as he felt what he'd been aching for. Sasuke hated himself for enjoying the feeling so much; Naruto's cool hand against his hot skin, the pulsing of his heart, his head spinning as he moaned. He gasped as if he were underwater, inhaling sharply as he wrapped his arms lightly around Naruto's neck. But it was useless trying to be cool and collected and give off the air of a seme when you're on the bottom. As painful as it was for him to admit, Naruto was a fucking good kisser and _very_ skilled with his hands. As Naruto's hand reached up his shirt and started touching his chest, he had to bite back words he didn't want to say. Like Naruto's name. He did _not _want to started yowling Naruto's name. But as Naruto's other hand found a good spot and swirled it with his fingertips, it got harder and harder not to scream. He bucked his hips, completely lost in the amazing feeling he hardly believed Naruto could evoke. As much as sex was and threatened to take over their relationship, he still felt something for Naruto he felt for no one else--compassion. He would never say it, but in a way, he loved Naruto. He hated being kissed, though, as he only liked kissing. For Sasuke, kissing as an uke was like going to the dentist. Something unpleasant was going on in his mouth, and he didn't like it; but after the other person was done poking around, he got a prize. It was twisted, but it was how Sasuke saw it.

"Naruto," he gasped as the blonde bit his ear.

"Yeah?"

"My _god_."

Naruto grinned and angled his head so he could kiss Sasuke's neck. There was a long pleased sigh as Sasuke gave in, letting Naruto pull Sasuke's shirt over his head and finish slipping off his jeans. It wouldn't really matter, anyway--Naruto was determined to be the seme, and the elastic on Sasuke's boxers stretched out a _lot _farther than you would expect. There was something about it that just made it okay. As Naruto eased out of his orange jacket, Sasuke reached for a Kunai knife and ran it quickly, easily through Naruto's shirt, tearing it off.

"What am I supposed to say happened to my shirt now?" Naruto complained, eyes laughing, grin mischievous, obviously not caring one bit about the shirt.

"According to you, crazy things are always happening to you and your homework," Sasuke whispered as he pressed his lips to Naruto's forehead. "You'll come up with something. You always do, after all."

Naruto moaned and breathed deeply, and they were blanketed in the soft, cool dim light of almost-morning. Naruto glanced at the watch in the grass, noticing it was a little after three in the morning. No one was awake yet. It wasn't quite light out. And this time they wouldn't be interrupted. He grinned impishly. This was going to be a long morning.


	5. Chapter 5 control issues

_Kabuto?_ Gaara wondered, leaning on the old door to the cellar. _"Orochimaru's little bitch?" Why would Kakashi have feelings for anyone who looks up to his enemy? _Gaara shook his head at a somewhat familiar blond girl who offered to buy him a drink. He was fed up with drinking. He didn't bother to say anything, just lightly dismissed her with a wave of his hand. Looking disappointed, she slunk off into the bouncing roar of people.

"Hey, Gaara," Tenten said, looking frustrated as she came to lean beside him.

"Hey," he replied, deep in thought.

"You not a fan of parties either?" she asked, frowning.

"Or drinking. Or music. Or people, in general," he sighed.

She laughed. "I see what you mean."

"Hmm?"

"I can relate." Tenten's smile was dismal. "I'm not exactly having a great night."

"Why's that?"

"I tried to ask Neji to dance. Obviously it didn't work."

Gaara blinked. Eyes on the ground, Tenten looked distraught.

"You….like Neji?"

"Yeah, I did. I was planning to talk to him eventually. I had ideas of what to say. But I was just so stupid, I went and got drunk and asked him a stupid question…." She laughed quietly. "He hates me now."

Gaara didn't respond. Did Neji say no because he was gay, or because he didn't like Tenten? Or because he hated parties almost as much as Gaara did? Or because he was a hopeless dancer? Or….was it because he liked someone else? New possibilities crowded his thoughts. Gaara scowled at the floor, ground a smoking cigarette butt into the wood, and started to walk away.

"Bye," Tenten said softly.

"Bye," Gaara echoed.

He wasn't thinking about Tenten, though. He was thinking about how in the world he was going to find Neji, and once he did how many drinks he'd need to buy for his old lover before he could convince the long-haired ninja he was worth it.


	6. Chapter 6 drowning

Orochimaru and Kabuto were trailing the Akatsuki, only a few feet above them at times, easily leaping from tree to tree or using replacement jutsus when they started to feel weary. It was key that they kept their energy and chakra up at all times. It had been three days, two nights, at that point. Itachi was different at night. Orochimaru stayed up four extra hours to watch the older Uchiha, when he thought Kabuto was asleep, to watch Itachi pace and talk to himself, and, once, he even cried about almost killing his brother. Kabuto wasn't himself at night, either. His harder outer layer was shattered at night, as if it was never there. Like he had only been holding his breath during the day. Kabuto lay on his side on a tree branch each evening, glasses shimmering with glinting moonlight and sparkling tears.

Kabuto thought that the more he cried, the harder and stronger he would eventually get to be, from not layering his hidden pain, but his theory backfired. The more he cried, the more he thought about it, and the more he thought about it, the more it hurt, and the more it hurt, the more he cried. He was a train wreck, the days slipping in and out with his face redder and redder and his heart more and more scarred. Kabuto always had his back to Orochimaru at night, so that he wouldn't have to look at him. So Orochimaru would never see him cry. And so he wouldn't hurt himself more by watching the one he loved love someone else.

The Uchihas had been causing problems for Kabuto's closeness to Orochimaru since day one. It was so hard to contain himself, falling so painfully for Orochimaru and spending his life doing nothing but helping to try to follow and find first Itachi, then Sasuke. It was so hard not to just kill them. Who knew what Orochimaru would do to them if he got his hands on either of them? It was so hard not to just break down. So, at night, he cried. He cried silently, breathing heavily and letting thick tears streak down his face, following the curves of his cheekbones, tasting the salt of teardrops and wishing he didn't feel anything. But he did.

The sun had set and it was dark, but being in a huge open field, the moon was bright and the stars were in thousands. Orochimaru was laughing eerily at something Itachi was saying. Kabuto focused on where he guessed Itachi was standing and listened carefully. He adjusted his hearing to pick up only Itachi's words.

"…could I let myself almost kill him? No matter what excuses I make, there's just something about him that made me love him too much to kill him. I make such a mistake killing the clan. The only good thing I did was spare Sasuke. For god's sakes, he's my little brother. I almost killed my little brother."

Kabuto suddenly wondered if Itachi was bipolar. It fit perfectly, to be honest. He'd killed his parents and his family and everyone he was close to, and as soon as he'd realized what he did, he hated himself, so he had a double personality. One personality everyone else saw; hard, uncaring, cool, the strong, cruel man who had killed his clan without blinking who he claimed himself to be. Alone, he showed a different side, where he knew he was weak and the guilt was all there. To stop himself from feeling hurt, he kept going, fast, to try and forget what he'd done. He was violent and dominating to cover how emotionally insecure he was. Kabuto shook his head. Itachi, emotional. Huh. Well, what do you know.

It was the third night, but it felt like the hundredth. Kabuto got up this time and slunk up behind Orochimaru silently. He put his hand on Orochimaru's shoulder. Orochimaru jumped and whirled around, wide-eyed, expecting an enemy. He let out a breath of relief.

"Oh, it's you. What...how long have you been up?"

"As long as you have."

"What?"

"The past three days."

"Why?"

"Because. If you're up, so am I."

"Kabuto—"

"Some privacy, I know."

Kabuto stepped back to give Orochimaru some room. But, unable to resist, he found himself stepping forward again, this time even closer.

"Kabuto?"

"I love you."

Orochimaru laughed.

"No one loves me. I am unloved. I kill and steal and murder and break. No one can love me. My heart barely beats."

"_I_ love you."

Orochimaru stopped laughing, grin fading quickly.

"You….what?"

"I _love_ you."

Orochimaru's eyes were wide. This was a mistake, and Kabuto knew it. Things would never be the same as before. Orochimaru would never be partners with someone like him. Someone weak, someone emotional. No. No way. Orochimaru would never be comfortable around Kabuto again. Things would never go back to how they were. Because even if Orochimaru pretended it never happened, both of them would know. And both of them would be uneasy. They could never be friends after this.

And then Kabuto laughed.

Friends? He and _Orochimaru?_ Orochimaru had no friends. He went it alone. Killed alone. Kabuto was a pawn, for plotting and planning. Of course he was. What made a friend? Trust. Honesty. Caring for one another. Compassion. Equality. Orochimaru would probably refuse to trust Kabuto with any of his secrets, like why he wanted Sasuke or what he would do with him when he succeeded in capturing the boy. Orochimaru might be truthful about some things, but it didn't mean he would willingly share his past with Kabuto, or anyone else for that matter. Orochimaru could show no compassion. He held some amount of lust, but not for Kabuto. No compassion, absolutely not. _My heart barely beats,_ as Orochimaru had just said himself. Orochimaru didn't care for Kabuto in any other way than as a soldier, really. Kabuto listened, he obeyed, he fought and thieved and worked for a simple nod from Orochimaru. If Kabuto died in battle, Orochimaru would only care in a lost-a-man kind of way. In other words, he would regret that Kabuto was dead because it would mean Orochimaru himself would be alone then. And of course, they were nowhere near being equal. Kabuto looked up to Orochimaru, following, obeying, consenting. He was a submissive dog, being trained and trained to do what it did best—protect and attack. He was Orochimaru's slave. But there was nothing else he could imagine doing.


	7. Chapter 7 caught

It was early afternoon, just barely past eleven, but Naruto was already up, smirking and energetic as ever, dragging a very ill-tempered Sasuke out of what you might have been able to call a bed in the tall grass. Naruto dipped his head in a silver-glinted stream, shook out the beaded water droplets, and ran his fingers through his hair before flicking the remains of the water into Sasuke's face. A severely irritated Sasuke grabbed the back of Naruto's shirt collar, almost ripping the fabric with his clenched fist.

"Hmm?" said Naruto, slowly turning around to face Sasuke, unaware that his bounciness was really, _really_ pissing off a certain sleep-deprived Uchiha.

"Shut up and let me go back to sleep."

"But it's almost noon!"

"It's not even eleven-_fifteen_, you retarded dobe. You have no idea how bad you were last night. I can barely stand up, retard. I'm going to bed and don't get me up unless you've made food. Edible food." Sasuke knew that would take a while, watching Naruto's forehead crease as he tried to think of what he could make. Sasuke sniggered, knowing Naruto was a useless cook and he'd get a good two hours or so before the Uzamaki would be able to present anything other than something either charcoal black or soggy and undercooked.

"Sasu-_kun_!" Naruto whined. Sasuke ignored him, hoping Naruto would lose interest.

"Sasuke!"

"Whaaaat?"

"Will you help me make lunch?"

"Even with my help it'll take you till dinnertime to cook anything," Sasuke grumbled, but turned around to help his lover.

"Does that mean you'll help?"

"You cook like a five year old, and that's the only reason why. I'm not eating any of the sludge or charcoal bits you try to feed me."

Naruto grinned triumphantly.

"I'm a little hungry anyway," Sasuke added feebly, racking his brain for another excuse. He pointed out what edible plants were around, and helped Naruto find the apples that were hanging inconspicuously in a nearby tree. When they'd gathered what they needed, Sasuke stood behind Naruto and helped him fry four eggs and toss a simple salad. As Naruto crunched into an apple, Sasuke asked suspiciously, "Where'd you get the eggs?" Sasuke leaned to avoid the flying chunks of apple as Naruto answered through a particularly juicy mouthful of fruit. Sasuke jammed his fingers angrily into Naruto's stomach.

"Swallow first, you idiot!"

Naruto shrugged, swallowed, and replied, "They were in my pack."

Sasuke shook his head and smacked a palm to his forehead, not wanting to know why Naruto carried eggs around in his backpack and how old the two eggs each they had both just eaten were.

In a somewhat less stormy mood because he had a chance to fix his mussed hair checking his reflection in the stream, splash his face, and eat a relatively good meal, Sasuke walked around in circles, contemplating where they were. It was true, the couple was lost. Suddenly he felt fingers close around his wrist.

"_You get to be the seme this time,"_ a voice said laughingly.

Sasuke's face went white.

"N-Naruto?" But Sasuke knew it wasn't Naruto's voice. A crackly laugh came from behind him.

_"Not exactly."_

"Uh…"

_"Hold the Uzamaki," _the voice hissed to someone else. A muffled yelp was silenced with a sickening smack of hand on skin. Sasuke's eyes were wide.

"Oro….chi…._maru?_" Sasuke choked, skin drained of color. His high cheekbones were ghostly pale, and his black eyes looked out desolately at something in the distance he couldn't quite see.

_"That would be me."_


	8. Chapter 8 made for each other

Kakashi wandered through the throng of people, standing a little taller than most of the crowd—because so many of the partiers were students and he was a teacher.

"Kakashi-sensei!" Sakura winked, grinning up at Kakashi. "How are you?"

"I'm fine, Sakura-chan." Kakashi answered boredly, "what's with Gaara-kun tonight?"

"Ga—what? Why?"

"He's got his eye on someone who's not interested anymore. Dammit, he's being so dull, just sitting there wrapped up in thought. He oughta have a stupid affair, act without thinking sometimes, live on the edge once and a while. Make some idiotic choices, y'know? I'm just about ready to beat the party into him," Kakashi sighed, glancing with a groan at Gaara, who was sitting, isolated, on the bottom stair leading to the upper floor.

"I….uh….okay, sensei," Sakura said awkwardly, trying to soak up what Kakashi was saying. "A….are you trying to say Gaara should have sleep around?"

"What?"

"Oh Kakashi, you just want me to say it out loud," she pouted crossly. "You know...have sex with lots of people...like...fuck some girl he hardly knows?" she struggled, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks.

"Where did you get the notion it would be a girl?" Kakashi winked and walked off, leaving a stunned and confused Sakura standing by the punchbowl.

"Hey, Jiro. You still have that raspberry vodka?" Kakashi asked the bartender, tapping the marble countertop lightly.

"Sure," Jiro replied, sliding a thin glass over to Kakashi.

Kakashi nodded his head slightly and slipped a tip under his napkin before departing into the crowd with his drink.

Sipping slowly, he wondered where Neji was. He'd heard through gossip that Tenten had asked him to dance—rejected, obviously—so he had to be around somewhere. Neji wasn't really one for parties, so he was probably somewhere secluded. _Who does that little bastard like now, anyway?_ Kakashi thought as he clunked up the other set of stairs, glancing absentmindedly into each of the rooms as he wandered down the hallway, working quietly at his drink.

"Hmm. Even with the raspberry vodka, alcohol doesn't hit me for a while," Kakashi mused, still relatively sober with the effects of his last sake wearing off. The first drink at the beginning of the night seemed distant. Shikamaru and Ino's cousin were feverishly thrashing around on the bed in one room that he peeked into. Kakashi slammed the door shut, which called up some cussing and what sounded like Shikamaru's head hitting a wooden floor and, "How the hell could you leave the _door_ open, you fucking idiot?!"

Kakashi shuddered. Even Makeout Paradise couldn't prepare him for the thought of 16-year-old Shikamaru and _anyone._ He finally managed to find Neji, sitting on a lounge couch and reading a book.

"Hey, Neji."

Neji looked up. "Oh, hey, Kakashi-sama."

"So."

Kakashi sat down in a black leather chair braced against a wall.

"Yes?" Neji's voice hinted his suspicion.

"What happened between you and Gaara-kun, anyway?"

Neji stiffened.

"I'd rather not talk about it."

"Well, that's too bad, now isn't it, Neji-kun." Kakashi cocked his head to one side, tugged his black mask up a little to cover the scar shooting down from his right eye, and stared intently at Neji, who looked a bit like a cornered cat. Ears back, nervous but furious, all claws. He was coiled and ready to spring. But Kakashi wasn't going to lighten up or back down until he knew what he wanted to know.

"It was a date that didn't work out. That's all," Neji replied finally, quietly, his voice hard and forced. Neji stared at the ground as if there was something tragically interesting in the crack between the floorboards.

"I hear it was a little longer than just one date," Kakashi pressed.

"Two weeks. It was nothing. We weren't lovers. It was only two weeks together before we decided it was getting too rocky to work out. Two weeks. Nothing more."

"Nothing less."

"Kakashi-sensei, will you step off it?" Neji was obviously crossing lines he didn't want to cross. He wasn't a good guy, and he wasn't particularly nice, but he hated disrespect. He said it would be what would define the line between victory and downfall.

"You and Gaara should be give it another go."

"And who are _you_ to say so?" Neji hissed, eyes flaring angrily. He was obviously a lot more touchy about he and Gaara than he came off as.

"Honestly. Just try one more time. You two are equally such dull party-crashers you have to belong together. Just think about it. Both of you—it's like constant PMS! You're pissy and emotional and you hate people! Who _else_ do you have so much in common with?"

Neji got up dismissively.

"I'd rather not talk about this," he said coldly, and turned icily to glide through the doorway. Searching for any excuse not to be alone, Kakashi got up and hit speed dial number five on his cell phone.

"Hey. You wanna meet me at the bar? There's a party. Uh-huh. Yeah…yup…sure. A six-pack is fine. See you in ten. Thanks, Joriah."

He flipped his cell closed with his thumb and let out a long sigh, flicked a lighter on his cigarette, and blew a smoke ring, leaning against a wall and wondering how much longer he could manage pretending not to be alone.


	9. Chapter 9 shoot him dead

Kabuto stood sullenly behind Orochimaru, treating a bleeding wound Naruto had gotten on his arm when they captured and gagged him. He knew he wasn't supposed to help the enemy, especially Naruto Uzamaki, but he couldn't stand it. The cut would've bruised, gotten infected, scabbed up, and oh, god, Kabuto couldn't stand the thoughts. His willpower was gone, of course. He had to heal any cut, scrape, or fracture in a three-mile radius. It was probably because his emotional willpower was broken down, too. Orochimaru didn't seem to notice, though. He was too busy tormenting his prey.

The Uchiha was white as a sheet and trembled at the sound of Orochimaru's voice. Without a doubt he'd gotten a pretty good idea of what Orochimaru would do to him. And suddenly they were kissing. But they weren't kissing, were they? Kabuto rubbed his eyes. Orochimaru ripping clothes, biting and scratching and laughing as he undressed a Uchiha bound and gagged, that he could take. But Orochimaru kissing someone so tenderly? It couldn't be happening.

Kabuto's knees buckled. He sobbed silently, slipping in and out of reality as his mind raced with possibilities. It was worse than Orochimaru lusting after someone else. Orochimaru….with _feelings_….for anyone….that was too much. The only person Kabuto had ever really loved was….in _love_ with someone else.

Sasuke's legs gave out too. He fell limply to the dust, fading out of consciousness. Orochimaru was laughing and laughing, and Kabuto was crying, and suddenly Orochimaru's face hit dirt. Kabuto, unable to stand it any longer, had punched the tender Achilles tendon in both of Orochimaru's ankles. Even someone as vicious and strong as Orochimaru could be broken by something as small as a string of flesh connecting leg and foot. Kabuto was still crying as he found his face level with Orochimaru's, and he was gripping the older man's shoulders and pulling himself in to the icy, emotionless skin.

And suddenly Orochimaru _really_ understood.

"…Oh."

It was all he managed to say before Kabuto was gone. No one seemed to realize where the silver-haired ninja had gone. Sasuke was still out cold, Orochimaru still unstable, and it was just Orochimaru. He was alone, loved and hated, feared and cared for. It remained to be seen how Orochimaru would manage without his partner. He'd gotten what he'd always wanted, but he felt like it had just slipped out of his grasp again. What he has always wanted was the collapsed Uchiha, eyelashes spread gently on his cheekbones, black spiked hair covering one eye as it was caught by a light breeze, porcelain skin and finely crafted hands. Sasuke Uchiha was art, a painting Orochimaru had always tried to create, but when at last he'd finished his brushstrokes and everything was as he had hoped for, there was something that just wasn't right.

It was what he'd always wanted. Raven black hair, light skin, that slender back, those lean arms. But there was something about his accomplishment that made him feel as if years and years of obsessing had been for nothing.

He thought it was something wrong with Sasuke, or with himself, or the means of capture. There should've been a fight. Or there should've been less clothes. Or an audience. That the timing wasn't right. Naruto was in the way of all of it. Or that Sasuke shouldn't have collapsed.

Orochimaru didn't even once consider that it was Kabuto's loss.

---

Kabuto was crouched in a tree, ripping up oak leaves and letting the shredded pieces drift down, comforted by a sleek ripple of wind. Kabuto wondered if he should've said something else to Orochimaru, or done something to Sasuke, or taken the Uchiha with him. He couldn't even sort out his feelings. Was he guilty? Angry? Sad? Relieved? Was he relieved to not be Orochimaru's dog anymore? Or did he want revenge? Or want to rejoin Orochimaru?

He decided to let his instincts decide.

His quickest animal impulse was revenge.

"Okay," he said slowly, "revenge it is."


	10. Chapter 10 the virgin is dead

Naruto was sitting there blinking, watching his lover bleeding silently, watching the sunset collapse over the horizon, watching Itachi stare after the spot where Kabuto once was, watching his own hands shake. Naruto had just witnessed the biggest betrayal of his life. This meant Orochimaru couldn't stand, it meant Sasuke was free, it meant Naruto could escape with his life and his lover. This was perfect, the perfect escape, the perfect getaway. No one had to get hurt. But when he thought about it, someone _had_ gotten hurt. And even with people he hardly knew, there was something wrong about what had happened. Orochimaru was just…lying there. Not upset. Not angry. Not jealous or frustrated or anything. He didn't even seem to care about Kabuto being gone. This was wrong. So wrong.

"C'mon, Naruto," Sasuke whispered, tugging on Naruto's sleeve and trying to get up. "Help me up and we'll get out of here."

Naruto grabbed Sasuke's hand and heaved him up. Sasuke couldn't stand; Orochimaru had clawed at his leg when he went down, and there was a deep gash across the back of his kneecap that made it too painful to put any weight on that leg. Naruto lifted him gently from the ground and started to walk. But they'd gone twenty paces before Naruto dropped Sasuke carelessly and whirled around. He ran back to Orochimaru, flipped him over onto his back and pinned the older man.

"Why the hell aren't you even _sorry_ that he's gone? Fuck it, he's probably the only person on earth who _cares_ about you, you ungrateful little bastard! Sasuke can't even _stand,_ thanks to you—and…and…you're just…." Very quickly Naruto was crying and pouring out everything and connecting it all back to Orochimaru to make everything his fault. He shook the blond spikes of hair out of his face and collapsed, crying, and Orochimaru wondered who was in control here, the crying mess on top or the pinned man on the bottom.

"And Sasuke's constantly terrified that you'll find him and hurt him and do hell knows what to him! And you've been trailing the Uchiha clan for years, tormenting them! And you interfered in the Chunin Exams years ago! And _you,_ with those creepy snake eyes that are in my dreams every night! And you just let the only guy who'll ever like you walk away!" Orochimaru was just lying there, soaking it all up, uncaring. Naruto was outraged. Unable to think of anything else to do, he smacked Orochimaru across the face. His hand left a print on Orochimaru's cheek, raising a tiny bit of color to his white face. And then Orochimaru laughed.

"You."

"What the hell?" Naruto screamed through his tears.

"I can ruin everything. All I need is you."

"What—what are you talking about? Ruin everything? Why the fuck would you want to do that? Or put it that way or—agh! Shit! Put me down, you crazy bitch! Agh!"

And then the two of them were gone. It was silent in the clearing for once in the last hour. The silence lasted a long time, and as dark clouded the sky as Japan fell into night, even the insects were silent. No buzzing, chirping, nothing. Quiet and dark blue blanketed everything, white fingertips of light inching its way along the night sky to mark pieces of the Milky Way, handfuls of salt cast into the overhead world settling to mark stars and constellations. It was dead midnight, and everything was still completely silent, as though this section of the world were trapped in time.

The giant abyss above the field was beautiful. Chains of stars were unnamed constellations. Sirius, the dog star, glittered, momentarily the brightest the brightest thing in the sky as a wispy night cloud floated over the moon and a particularly bright patch of the Milky Way. The Big Dipper poured a swirled mix of stars into the sparkling ocean above Japan and half the world. Leo Minor screamed his roar to the skies. Sagittarius's fingers were poised, ready to lease an arrow towards the horizon. Cassiopeia lounged upside-down, hanging beautifully in her chair, revolving around the North Pole, her head facing the ground half the time. The whole night sky was beautiful. Red stars, planets, Venus's glimmer, Saturn's ring, a glint of the moon through scattered clouds, a dust of the Milky Way here and there, darting through the constellations.

Just watching the night sky, waiting patiently for summer shooting stars, could be just as fantastically exciting as watching colors dance and twirl in the Northern Lights. A shooting stars gliding along the sky from one horizon to the other was a miracle in itself. Making a wish, tracing the tail it left with your finger as if it were close enough to touch. It was all amazing. A gorgeous light show for all who cared to watch. Even Aurora Borealis could hardly stand up to stargazing on a clear night under a sky free of light pollution, just lying in the grass and collecting dew until early morning. It was easily something you could spend hours on end doing.

Silence was still keeping a careful watch over everything in the field at quarter-to-one. Another hour ticked by, and still no sound escaped anything within a five-mile-radius, not even what should've been a gently trickling stream. The timing was perfect when a rock rolled in to block the path and dam the stream. The animals were silent. The stars blazed passionately overhead.

The silence coated the night, the sky, the trees, and the pile of limbs and clothes in the middle of the clearing. Sasuke, still in a motionless heap as Naruto had left him, was staring at the grass a few inches from his face, silent tears dripping down his flawless features, weaker than ever, vulnerable and bleeding and afraid of what he would—or more importantly, wouldn't—see when he raised his head.


	11. Chapter 11 passionfruit

Neji slowly crept down the stairs, peering out from behind a wall at the crowd. Maybe he could blend in! Maybe no one would notice him. Maybe no one would offer him a drink, or bother him about Gaara, maybe Gaara wasn't even here, maybe Kakashi was bluffing. Maybe the party would be over soon, or maybe he could stay in the shadows and no one would see him, maybe he—

"Neji!"

Neji turned around slowly, still numb with thought. It was Hinata, with a hint of a smile leaking across her face, her soft eyes flickering over him.

"I didn't think you came."

Neji looked away.

"Everyone else came. I figured maybe a miracle would happen and I'd actually have a good time." He sighed. "But we both know miracles never happen."

"Stop being such a pessimist," Temari sighed as she walked by, "and plus, miracles can happen. You should go talk to Gaara. It'd be a miracle for _him. _He's been depressed as hell since you two broke up. And he refuses to meet other people I try to set him up with, not even people he knows."

Neji blinked, surprised for once.

_Depressed as hell?_ Head spinning, he wondered if maybe he really _should_ go talk to Gaara. He stole a glance across the room, looking through the crowd of people and through a wall and a set of stairs to see Gaara, sitting at the bar, hunched over uninterestedly as he swirled his finger around the top rim of his almost-empty glass. He was taken aback. Neji knew Gaara wasn't one for parties, but he had always assumed from the start that his ex-lover was relieved to be single. A pressure lifted. A stress gone. He'd never considered that the post-breakup Gaara would be such a different one. So quiet, so pale, so isolated. He cleared his throat and shifted his weight to his other foot as he weighed his options.

Neji drifted through the crowd, gripping his drink like his life depended on it. And somewhat, it did. He took a nervous gulp of his drink, which was a light vodka that was so heavily spiked with liquor, it practically hurt to swallow. The scorch of the liquid brought him back to his senses. It would be a long night, he thought woozily—not from the alcohol, but from the mental battle ahead of him. He miserably realized that he was sweating. This wasn't really that bad, was it? Honestly! He was a _ninja_, after all. A fucking ninja! He'd been on so many missions he could stay cool and collected while he was stabbing someone in the small of the back. He'd seen so much blood and felt so much pain he could cut off his own hand without a blink or a flinch. And talking to a past lover was really this agonizing?

Gaara looked up slowly at the boy who had just somewhat hesitantly tapped him on the shoulder. Gaara, surprised, sat up suddenly.

"N-Neji? What are you doing here?"

"I heard you were talking about me."

Gaara looked left and right frantically, then tugged Neji's sleeve, nudging him towards the stairs. As they ascended the stairs and slid the door of the room shut for quiet, Gaara looked expectantly at Neji.

"You heard I was talking about you?"

"Yeah."

"So you actually came to talk to me about it?" He cocked his head to one side, contemplating possibilities. "Does this have anything to do with Kakashi?"

"How'd you know?"

"He talked to me too. I was praying he wouldn't do anything stupid. But there's no way you can trust a drunk Kakashi." Gaara massaged his temples, frustrated.

"It's….okay. I should've come and talked to you anyway." Neji looked down as he talked, as if there was something tragically interesting wedged between the floorboards. "Where we left it was a bad situation."

"You wouldn't listen to me. I never cheated on you."

"But you would've."

"Don't you dare make those damn assumptions of yours, Neji. You always end up hurting people with them and you're never right." Neji looked away sharply, knowing all too well that Gaara was oh so right.

"Gaara—"

"Don't tell me it was for the best. I loved you."

Gaara froze. He hadn't meant to say that. The moment he said it he wished he could take it back, wished he could snatch those words right out of the air and shove them in his pockets. The silence pressed down on them; the humid air hung heavy where they sat. Those words danced in the air, circling Gaara's head, taunting him, breaking him down. Neji spoke first, though shakily.

"You did?"

"I do," Gaara replied quickly, and immediately wished he could take those words back too. After what seemed like hours Neji got up with a particularly sour look on his face.

"I never would've marked you as the type to lie," he spat, a snarl curling his lip as he slammed the door shut in Gaara's face, skulked down the hallway, and sat crossly on the top stair leading back down to the party. He was fuming. You could practically see the smoke swirling out of his ears.

Gaara, alone, sat back down with a thump, eyes wide, head throbbing. He was still numb with shock from what had just happened. He'd been denied, and no worse, by the only person he'd ever managed to care for. Who knew what Neji had been thinking! Maybe he had done it in shock, trying to act cool while he absorbed this surprising information. Maybe he'd done it as a normal reaction, completely honestly, meaning what he'd said and how angry he'd looked. Or maybe he'd done it without thinking, still confused and tied up in guesswork about whether or not Gaara really felt the way he said he felt. It was so confusing, loving such a cold person and being such a cold person yourself. Even having so much in common, Gaara felt as if he knew nothing about Neji. Even after spending so much time and passion together, he couldn't honestly say he understood anything about the black-haired Ninja.

Running his fingers through his crimson spiked hair, he let out a long sigh and gently eased the door open. Slowly, quietly, he edged his way up to Neji and sat down beside him. Neji was dead-silent, staring off down the stairs, obviously wishing he was anywhere but the party. Gaara slid his hand onto Neji's shoulder. Neji flinched, unblinking but still frustrated.

"I don't like it much either," Gaara said softly, keeping his hand on Neji's shoulder. Neji nodded slightly, but he looked as though he was in one of his moods. In his moods, he believed everyone was at fault and no matter what you'd done to make him mad, it was completely unforgivable and even though you owed him an apology—or 60—he would never accept it. Neji was like that sometimes. The key was really to sincerely apologize once, walk away, and give him time and space. Gaara knew that. He had no intention of leaving, but he knew he'd have to at least apologize for whatever it was exactly he'd done and let it sink in before Neji would pay him any attention. Knowing what to say in his apology was complicated. It would help if he knew what he'd done to upset his old lover.

He knew it was saying he still loved Neji, but he wasn't sure why it had made him mad. Was it disgust? Shock? Anger, because maybe Neji liked someone else? Or was it disrespect? Was he just angry because he didn't want anything to do with Gaara anymore? Who knew? Gaara racked his brain for what to say, but nothing came to mind. When he tried to speak, no words came. When he opened his eyes to look around, he could see only black. When he reached out to brace himself against a wall, his arms only sliced through air. When he parted his lips to breathe, he found no air but only a set of pale thin lips lightly touching his own as the night lived on.

-----

It suddenly was morning. Gaara slipped into his clothes, groaned and stumbled toward the bathroom across the hall with a hell of a migraine. He knew he wasn't really supposed to crash here, but didn't everybody? Neji was smoking outside the door, his hair down and floating in his face. Gaara pulled an elastic off his wrist and pulled Neji's hair into a loose bun.

"You're gonna set yourself on fire, you idiot," he growled, flicking a piece of hair behind his lover's ear. Neji laughed.

"It's more likely _you'll_ set yourself on fire while I'm smoking."

"Smoking is terrible for you!"

"So are parties. And missions. And underage drinking. And driving when you're thirteen. But both of us did all of that, and we're still alive and fine."

"Ugh, Neji!"

"Gaara."

"You're gonna set yourself on fire," he repeated angrily, snatching the cigarette out of Neji's hand and throwing it onto the tiled bathroom floor, grounding it out with the heel of his bare foot. "And don't even think about lighting another one."

But Neji was already blowing a smoke ring in Gaara's face.

"Neji! Ugh! You're such a dobe."

Neji laughed.

"How'll _you_ feel when I die of secondhand smoking!" Gaara moaned, waving the smoke away irritably.

"It's not like I chain-smoke, Gaar," Neji said boredly.

"Stop calling me that."

"I have a hangover."

"So smoking makes it _better?_"

"No, calling you Gaar makes it better." Neji smirked, drawing in a long breath from his cigarette.

"Ugh! Oh, nevermind. I have a hangover too, and a fucking migraine. And I get to be the seme next time. Ugh. It hurts to bend my legs. But as bad a mood as I'm in, I'm not smoking or calling you retarded nicknames, now _am _I? So gimme a minute, will you?"

He pulled the door of the bathroom shut loudly, leaving Neji outside sniggering to himself.

Gaara checked himself in the mirror, fixed his hair with a little water, and splashed his face. He took a few pain meds and slipped out of the bathroom, rubbing the back of his neck grumpily. Neji's hair was down again, and he had made a shadow clone of himself, which was also smoking. Gaara glared at Neji, who was muffling a laugh with the heel of his hand. As Neji leaned against the wall, smoking, the shadow clone snuck up behind Gaara, locked his arms behind his back and forced a lit cigarette into the redhead's mouth. Gaara spat furiously, disgusted, as Neji laughed. The shadow clone disappeared in a puff of smoke.

"It's not that bad, now is it, Gaar?"

"You can do one of two things, either never call me Gaar again or quit smoking."

Neji shrugged, stomped out his cigarette, and tossed Gaara his shoes.

"So," he began as Gaara laced up his second shoe, "what are we doing today?"

"Sleeping?" Gaara suggested hopefully, looking back with a weak sigh at the inviting bedroom. Neji smiled a little.

"Why don't we go see what everyone else is up to." Gaara knew that grin. "I haven't seen the Uchiha or the Uzamaki in a while."


	12. Chapter 12 masterpiece

Kabuto was sitting in the hollow of an old maple tree, where he had been all night, thinking of what revenge he could take against Orochimaru.

"…Or I could do something with someone. But who? Naruto? No, he doesn't care about him. Itachi? Maybe, but it would be hard to get close to Itachi. Who was in school with him—Tsunade? Or Jiraiya? No, no. Perhaps someone who taught him—no, too old. Plus, he probably didn't care about his teachers. Oh, it's so obvious. Sasuke."

He smiled weakly, knowing he wasn't bitter or wicked like Orochimaru or anyone else of that nature. He was a medical ninja, nothing more, nothing less. Orochimaru's ex-emotional-assistant. And he wished he still was the wreck of a slave he'd been for the cruel Sound-Village missing-nin.

"Snap _out_ of it, Kabuto," he growled to himself, glasses glinting as he shook his head, catching a sliver of moonlight. Even a Legendary Sannin didn't deserve to get away with everything, especially so hurting his own spy and assistant. The problem was, no matter how spectacular the revenge scheme, he never felt interested in carrying it out. The problem was, he wasn't angry. He still cared about Orochimaru.

But he knew he had to act. Getting this revenge was all he had.

His best plan was to get Sasuke in the dead of night. Act soon. Act now. So at three AM, Kabuto slipped out of his hiding place in the tree. He glided out into the field and softly tapped Sasuke in the small of the back. The 16-year-old began to stir, but Kabuto gently touched the pressure point on the back of Sasuke's neck to render him unconscious. Kabuto lightly tugged Sasuke upright and cradled him in his arms, carefully walking to the other side of the stretch of field.

It was more than half a mile before they reached the other side and found a suitable tree with a large, empty hollow. Kabuto slipped Sasuke into the hole in the knotted oak's trunk, sat back against a spiking tree branch, and watched the sky shift ever so slightly over an hour's time. The world was so beautiful, when you thought about it. Rainforests, plains, rivers, waterfalls. Mist and smoke, oceans and waves and deserts. Coves and sparks and fire, beaches and dunes and forests. Trees and lakes, rain and sun and light. Stars and constellations. Fruit and water and acid rain. The world was spectacular. It was amazing. It was the people who lived there that ruined everything.

Kabuto was wondering if there was other life somewhere. He was wondering about planets and life and relationships, about intelligence and abuse and strategies, about what people were meant to do, about flight and swimming and breathing, about who—or what—made the earth, when it happened, how it was possible. Kabuto was wondering about physics and truth and electricity. He was wondering about who was the first to light a fire. He was wondering about loyalty and communication and healing. He was wondering about language and love and energy, about sewing and learning and silver, about disease and music and caffeine. About paper and ink, about faces and genes, bridges and ice and temperature, about heat and movement and speed, touch and sense and afterlife. He was wondering about emotions and nature and people, about connections and patterns and plastic, about stars and galaxies and paint. Kabuto was wondering about god and birth and passion, love and friendship and trust, fire and friction and sand, when he fell asleep clutching the delicate fingers of Sasuke Uchiha.


	13. Chapter 13 kick him while he's down

Naruto opened his eyes. Swearing loudly, he looked at the sky and guessed it was around ten. Sleeping late wasn't something he normally did. That damn Orochimaru had probably drugged him. Orochimaru was hanging upside-down, smiling in a way that was so snake-like that Naruto shivered. Orochimaru blew a yellow strand of hair out of Naruto's eyes and looked the boy over.

"Uchihas would kill for you," he whispered coldly, still smiling. "Itachi wants the Nine-Tails, and Sasuke just wants the sex." He laughed. Naruto's eyes flamed angrily.

"He does not!"

"What do you think he wants you for, then?" Orochimaru sniggered. "Love? Uchihas don't love."

Naruto's shoulders slumped, his snarl fading, as he realized how true that sounded. He had always believed it was something to do with love. Passion, trust, attraction. But as he thought it through again and again, he got a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach telling him that everything he'd thought was going south. Way south. It was about the sex, wasn't it? After all, those nights under the stars...even though they acted like they cared about each other, even though Naruto _did _care about Sasuke, was it just the exhausted period of serenity that probably happened to anyone who just had such a tiring night? Naruto's vision clouded as he couldn't help telling himself over and over that Sasuke didn't love him, never did, never would. He wiped at his face, rubbing the newborn tears hard against his skin, before they even tried to escape. He shoved his palm over his eyes and pressed, as if to force the tears back before they really came. He knew once he started crying he would never manage to stop.

Orochimaru was just grinning, still hanging upside-down from the branch, eyes on Naruto, who was trying to hide his face from the Sannin staring gleefully straight at him.

"Go away," he hissed. Orochimaru cackled.

"Do you think I took you just to let you walk away?"

"I can only be hopeful," Naruto sulked.

"I can only be hopeful Sasuke will track me down to get you back."

"I thought he only wanted me for sex!" Naruto snapped, furious as ever.

"Yes, but why would he want you to know that?" Orochimaru crooned tauntingly, face closer to Naruto's than before. He slid his legs along the tree, swinging forward to come a hair's width away from Naruto's nose. He licked the Uzamaki's neck, still grinning like a maniac. Naruto cringed, his face clearly saying how disgusted he really was.

"You are such a perv."

"So is Sasuke, but I'm not complaining."

Naruto swore under his breath. Did this devious ninja have an answer for everything?

"You," Naruto replied pointedly, "are so wrong someone will probably blow your brains out if you say that again."

"Sasuke is perverted."

"You!" Naruto screamed, standing up on the branch where he'd been sitting, a scowl marking how enraged he really was. "I can't wait to punch your face in, you ridiculous moron!"

Orochimaru laughed as Naruto spat a colorful variation of words at him.

"So why don't you just do it now?" Orochimaru asked cheerfully.

Naruto stopped mid-sentence, breath gone, confidence flooded, anger lost somewhere along the road. He realized with a sickening crack that he _could_ punch Orochimaru right then, he _could_ fight him. But the worst part of it was, for the blonde-haired ninja, that he was too afraid. The finger he had been pointing at Orochimaru's chest started to tremble. He took a step back and leapt.

Orochimaru laughed, made a few hand signs, and made twenty shadow clones encircle Naruto. He kept running, never flinching, through the wall of clones, being beaten and bruised and slashed all the while. But he kept running. If he'd stopped, he wouldn't have had a chance. But as a moving target, he was harder to hit, and took Orochimaru and his clones by surprise. Orochimaru dropped lightly from the tree and took off on foot after the young ninja, who was weaving through trees and getting himself—and his enemy—lost.


	14. Chapter 14 watch him stumble

Neji nudged Gaara towards the door. Gaara rolled his eyes and rapped his knuckles casually on the cherry wood.

"Hey, guys," Kira said cheerfully, though a little surprised, as the door swung open. "What's up?"

"Just around," Neji replied smoothly. "Y'know, visiting people, seeing how bad their hangovers are." Kiba laughed.

"Mine was pretty bad this morning, but some painkillers fixed that. But _man,_ am I starved. You wanna go get something easy? Say, like, ramen?" Neji and Gaara glanced at each other, shrugged, and agreed.

-----

"Three cups ramen," Kiba told the counterman, who nodded slightly and slid three bowls of ramen toward the boys as Kiba paid.

"So," Kiba began as he handed a handful of scrunched-up bills to the man, "what've you guys been up to lately?"

"Nothing you want to hear about, trust me," Gaara said, cracking what could be understood as a smile, if you squinted and used your imagination.

Kiba laughed.

"You wouldn't believe what I do with Shikamaru, nor would you want to," he replied brightly, grinning at his dirty little secret.

"Uh….Kiba?" Neji said hesitantly.

"Yeah?"

"Shikamaru…uh…might be cheating on you," he finished with a shudder.

"Aw, he's a bitch whenever girls are around. I don't care much, really. He can do what he wants," Kiba replied dismissively. Neji shrugged.

"Where are Naruto and Sasuke lately?" Gaara blurted out suddenly.

"Heh, doing stuff we only dare to imagine," Kiba scoffed; it was clear he tended to imagine these sort of things quite often. "They went off a few days ago and, well, they haven't come back."

"Hasn't anyone worried about them?" Gaara frowned.

"Nah, they do that sometimes. Usually they're back next night, sometimes a little longer. No one really bothers to worry about them at this point, since they're just swimming in sex, wherever they go off to, anyway."

Gaara and Neji both swallowed a laugh, finished the last of their ramen, and said goodbye to Kiba before heading out of the ramen shop.

"So, where do you think they are?" Gaara asked.

"You sure are awfully interested," Neji pointed out, trying not to scowl or look jealous, both of which he desperately wanted to do. And he _was_ jealous, which didn't help his mood. He hated being so frantically in love. Every little thing that suggested Gaara didn't like him or liked someone else haunted him night and day, itching at his skin and making him want to tug at his collar, though it wasn't itchy or hot.

"I am not," Gaara snorted. "Don't be ridiculous. I just think it's strange they disappeared."

"You heard Kiba, they do it all the time."

"Yeah, I know. I just have a feeling about this…."

"Who the hell do you even like?"

"Ugh, Neji, of course I love you," he squawked irritably. "Didn't we make this clear last night?"

"Last night both of us were drunk."

"Alcohol does nothing to me, and you know it."

"It doesn't matter. You didn't mean it."

"Why the hell would I say something that obviously stupid if I didn't mean it?"

"Because you were drunk?"

"Neji!"

"Okay, okay." He put his hands up, sighing heavily, backing off. Gaara turned away and leapt up to the top of a pole. Neji followed, and they scanned the surrounding landscape.

"So where do you think they are?" Gaara repeated, trying to pretend their last conversation hadn't really happened. Neji bit back his complaints, remembering he had done the same thing about something much bigger; their breakup.

"I dunno. Maybe they're in the forest."

Gaara nodded slowly. "Let's go."

"What? But you—where?"

"Duh. We're gonna go find them."

"Why the hell would we do that?"

"I'm bored."

"So am I, but I don't wanna go track them down."

Gaara got a bit huffy at that comment.

"You have any better ideas?"

Neji bit his tongue to stop himself from yelling. He took a deep breath. But he couldn't help but say the sole question that was crowding his mind, crushing all other thoughts flat into the ground with its looming importance.

"Why the hell are you so obsessed with Naruto and Uchiha?"

Gaara looked down, obviously stopping himself from snapping.

"I'm not, and don't worry so much," he said, much more softly than Neji would have expected, taking the empty-eyed boy by surprise. His anger melted a little as he felt Gaara suddenly behind him, the hand on his shoulder, the one he'd been away from for so long.

"Yeah."

"Okay?"

"Okay."

"You still okay with looking for them? There's really no reason, Neji."

"Whatever."

"Oh, Neji…."

"What?"

"Don't say 'whatever' like I'm torturing you and you're just such an innocent little kid."

Neji tried to smile, but failed.

"It's fine. Really."

Gaara smiled faintly, and ran his fingertips over Neji's nose.

"Thanks."

"Whatever."

"Neji!"

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding."

Both of them smiled, but neither of their smiles were honest.


End file.
